Unhide
by teddy25
Summary: Out of seven billion people in the world right now, Steve's heart missed the one who had put three bullets through his body.
1. Chapter 1

_A one shot on **Stucky** (Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes) that no one asked for, but I would've written it anyway :-)_

* * *

 _The evening sun melted into a ocean of orange waves._

 _Two people were standing on the deck of the ship._

 _It sailed through endless hearts of the ripples like a proud ruthless swan._

 _The boy held her waist gently as he made her stand on the railing._

 _The lady gasped softly and swayed a little before she found herself leaning against him._

 _He had pulled himself up behind her and she could feel his breath fanning her cheek softly._

 _He took her arms and slowly pulled them away from the railing. Their fingers tangled as he spread her arms like the wings of the seagulls flying close to the setting sun._

 **"** _ **Oh, I am flying"** she whispered. Her face lit up with the dreamiest smile he's ever seen on her. _

_A hauntingly beautiful melody filled the air as their lips met in a languidly sweet kiss._

"Steve, do we really have to do this every time?" Sharon pressed her lips together and exhaled wearily.

"You mean watching **Titanic on Valentine's day**?"Steve frowned a little "Isn't that what people are supposed to do today? Watching mushy movies and getting drunk!"

"Why does everything have to be like an idea to you?" Sharon pressed the pause button of the remote with extra harshness, freezing the couple mid-kiss "Like you have already created a mental image of how to spend Valentine's day with your wife and you are simply carrying out the strategy!

So much for a f*cking dinner date with Steven 'Cap' Rogers." Peggy's blonde hair bounced as she shook her head in dismay.

Steve bit his tongue to stop himself from saying _**'Ex-wife.**..dinner date with an ex-wife who still makes my heart skip a bit every time she drops the f-bomb'._

"You know using a swear word doesn't really add anything to validate an argument. Not to forget in our times, the dames didn't think..."

"Oh Steve, not again! Stop saying 'in our times' in every f*cking sentence, like I need a reminder I am married to a hundred year old dude." Sharon pinned him with a cold glare.

 **' _were married to'_** Steve mentally corrected her but refrained from saying anything. Instead he poured her another glass of red wine.

Sharon drank heartily from the glass, gulping down almost half of it in a manner so unlike her normal elegant (bordering on snobbish) self.

When she finally managed to look up at him, the edginess in her eyes had mellowed, giving way to a soft, shimmering light.

"You are not going to get drunk with your wife on 14th Feb? It's also a custom, you know!" the corner of her lips twitched a little as she visibly checked him out from head to toe.

She seemed to approve of his rust coloured sweater and casual denims, which eased the tightening knot in Steve's stomach a bit.

She had often been vocal about Steve's sense of style in the past and _God!_ Did she have a sharp tongue!

"Ah, you know I can't get drunk." Steve shrugged.

"And you know I hate the fluffy stuff you make me watch on every Valentine's day." Sharon pouted.

Steve really wanted to point out that the past three Februarys might not count much in the grand scheme of things, but he was anyway too polite to say it out aloud.

After downing another two glasses of the fine red wine, she stood up unsteadily on her feet.

Steve held out his hand but she dismissed it with an impatient huff.

"Sorry, no time for the chivalrous knight act. There's just this one 'custom' left for tonight and I gotta meet my bunch of loonies at the Stark tower before midnight." She tip-toed on her high heels with ridiculous amount of caution before unavoidably tripping and landing in Steve's arms

"Hey, careful." Steve murmured. His eyes caressed her unnaturally long lashes and slick pink lips. He decided to ignore the soft pangs of desire rising in his heart.

"You know Stevie, I f*cking hate your sex-face every time I say 'f*ck" Sharon giggled, before planting a sloppy kiss on his lips.

Steve held his breath for a few moments, before letting himself go and responded with what he hoped was a display of genuine passion.

Sharon pulled herself away after a while and studied Steve's face with an unreadable expression.

"You aren't thinking about Peggy Carter, are you?" her eyes narrowed.

Steve didn't want to dignify that with a response; hence he chose to remain silent.

"You are doing that thing again, Steve." Sharon pressed her hands on her mouth, like she was going to be sick.

"What thing?" Steve bit his lip, "are you okay, Shar?" he tried to touch her face but she slapped his hand off.

"That bloody thing when every time I kiss you, I can almost hear your heart beating with someone else's name! and DON'T you dare tell me I am wrong, cause I have spend three goddamn year, almost a thousand f*cking nights with you to know how it feels!" she yelled and simultaneously took several steps back from him.

"Shar, please listen to me" Steve pleaded, but it was too late.

She was gone before he could stop him. He could hear her little hiccuping sobs echoing in the empty corridor.

* * *

"Pepper" he dialed the first number he could think of.

"Hello Steve, is everything alright?" Steve almost felt guilty sensing the genuine concern in her voice.

"Yeah…I mean no. I mean…Sharon is going to meet you tonight, right? Could you please make sure she is…alright." Steve knew he sounded ridiculous, probably a bit silly, but he had to make sure she was fine.

"I will surely keep that in mind. If you don't mind me asking, Steve, is there any reason I should be worried about her well-being?" Pepper still sounded cautious.

"No, nothing serious. It's just that we had a bit of…disagreement." Steve swallowed.

"On a Valentine's day? That's, well…unfortunate." Pepper sighed, but she was too polite to press things further.

"She, uh, kind of thinks that I wasn't…being earnest in expressing my feelings towards her." Steve's voice shook a little.

"Is there any truth behind her thoughts though? You don't have to answer that if you don't want to, Steve. I, by no means, want to intrude your privacy." Pepper was the only lady Steve knew who wasn't afraid to speak her mind but always managed to do so in a classy way.

Steve was a few seconds too late in answering that. Eventually he just gave up and waited for Pepper to somehow save the day with her elegant ways.

"Steve?"

"Yes, Pepper."

"Am I thinking what I think you are thinking right now?"

"I have no idea what it is that you are thinking!" Steve lied. He was bracing himself for her next move though.

"Oh Steve! Perhaps it is time for you to understand that it is best when you say it _yourself_." There was a long silence at the other end of the phone.

Steve really had nothing to say after that.

He stood there with the phone in his hand, long after the dial tone stopped buzzing in his ear.

It was raining softly outside. The blurred, muted glow of the streetlight reflected on the wet windowpane.

Steve leaned his forehead against the cold glass and closed his eyes.

Out of seven billion people in the world right now, his heart missed the one who put three bullets through his body.

One narrowly missing his heart by mere inches

Steve bit his lips so hard for stopping the tears that threatened to overcome him, he tasted blood on the tip of his tongue.

" _Buck"_

The moment his lips formed the word in an almost imperceptible whisper, his inside twisted with a violent surge of pain.

At that moment, Steve Rogers so wished that the winter soldier hadn't miss his target the last time they met.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 and 3 almost wrote themselves. I was originally planning for a one-shot but my Stucky feels got hold of me and persuaded me into writing more.**

 **I would like to thank the wonderful people who took the time to read / like / follow the story.**

 **I wrote it for personal reasons and it's very close to my heart.**

 **Your feedback means a lot to me. Please let me know whether I should continue it.**

 **Disclaimer : The characters belong to MARVEL COMICS and MCU. I own nothing (except for my Stucky feels!)**

Steve sat in the semi-darkness, sipping unmindfully from the bottle of French wine he brought for Sharon.

One glance at the screen of his smartphone told him it's almost 9 o'clock at night.

He vaguely remembered the special dish he thought of preparing for _her_ tonight; a Greece delicacy with some rare herbs and spices that took him almost a fortnight to collect. In fact, he had to order some of the items online just to make sure that the traditional flavors came alive once it's cooked to perfection.

All of that didn't matter _anyway_.

She was gone and there was nothing he could do to salvage the moment.

The day of _love_ had passed like so many others days of their lives, scarred with heated arguments and drenched in angry tears.

Steve couldn't remember when exactly _it started_ , but Sharon swore during one of their countless fights that it was that damned _fall_ from helicarrier that changed Steven G Rogers forever.

Steve's vision suddenly swam with _a flash of dark hair and_ a pair of _dirty blue eyes_ daring him to look into the dangerous depths of them.

He sighed and closed his eyes. He was tired of fighting those memories all the time.

Steve tried to focus on the low muffled voices coming from the television instead. After Sharon left, he didn't even have the energy to turn it off.

Some red carpet event at a movie premier was on air and various _celebs_ explained with clearly labored enthusiasm about what _true love_ really meant to them.

Steve grimaced and reluctantly pulled himself up from the couch to reach the remote control kept on the table. This was exactly the kind of pretentious crap that could propel him to action (the kind of stuff that Tony would've loved anyway – Steve thought). He surfed the channels hastily till he found one that was playing _soft instrumentals_ instead of commercials or the cacophony they called _music_ now-a-days.

Soon the piano tune from _Love story_ filled the emptiness of the room with sweet melancholy. Steve sat at the table and indulged himself in taking occasional swigs of the delicious wine. He knew he couldn't get drunk anymore and the idea was always accompanied with a tiny pang of bitterness, but he was enjoying the light buzz in his ears and the warmth slowly filling his chest cavity was a welcome change from the damp chill in his empty room on a rainy day.

Steve was tempted to call it a night and just retreating to bed when his phone broke into the familiar monotonous buzzing. It showed 'Virginia Potts calling' and Steve picked it up immediately.

"Hello, Pepper?" Steve couldn't conceal the urgency in his voice "Is she with you? Is Sharon all right?"

"Hey …baby." It was Sharon.

"Oh, hey! It's you." Steve let out a small sigh he didn't realize he was holding. "Look, Shar, all I want to say is…"

"I am sorry." Sharon voice was thick and had a little drunken slur, which almost made Steve smile.

She was a mess when she was drunk and nobody knew it better than Steve. After a couple of drinks she would start feeling cozy, muttering apologies and sinking into a bottomless pit of soul-searching. Soon names like 'baby', 'sugar', 'honey' would start rolling down her mouth, followed by a cuddling session and (hopefully) passing out in the blissful oblivion of sleep.

"Hey, just let it go, okay? Are you having a good time with the rest of the bunch?" Steve genuinely hoped she was.

"You know, I am not exactly feeling on the top of the world right now but things are already looking up. Finally Tony has agreed to watch the Star trek reboots and we are going to binge watch the trilogy tonight." The high pitched giggling noise she made was just another of her alcohol fueled antics, Steve knew.

"Tony had _accidentally_ called it _'Stark Trek'_ though. _Twice."_ She informed.

"Yeah, right! I bet that was purely _accidental_." Steve snorted, but he inwardly thanked Pepper and Tony for being so considerate about the situation without making it obvious.

' _It was their valentine's day too…and they pretty much gave it up for my uncanny ability to mess up any situation.'_ Steve mentally cursed himself, but he could only do _so much_ about it.

"Did you eat anything, Shar?" he asked carefully. Such queries in the past had earned himself the tag of acting like 'a dad' so he didn't want to take a chance; even though it stemmed from nothing but his genuine concern and affection for her.

"Well, Clint just ordered pizza and Nat brought the beers. So I am most certainly not going to pass out on an empty stomach, daddy!" Sharon chuckled.

 _There she goes again!_

"I am happy to hear that, Sharon." Steve rubbed his temple wearily.

"Wow, you must be grouchy enough to call me _'Sharon',_ Stevie! I promise I won't be a killjoy anymore. You still have to re-watch 'Gone with the wind' for…like…the hundredth time, right? Go ahead and be a sap, nobody's stopping you sweetheart."

"I am just going to pretend it wasn't the _alcohol talking,_ Shar. Just…have a nice time and do whatever you love to do, okay." Steve's heart wasn't into the conversation anymore. He was just relieved that Sharon was fine and surrounded by real friends whom Steve could trust.

Steve quietly walked into his tiny bedroom, picked up a pair of blankets from the blanket chest and returned to the drawing room. A chill had settled in the entire house; a thick mist of loneliness and memories that made his heart ache and his mind claustrophobic.

He sprawled himself on the couch, tucking the blanket up to his chin and slowly let out a deep breath. He was grateful for the slow, instrumental version of 'moon dance' that was being played on a loop. It was the perfect foil for the restlessness that haunted his soul ever since he'd discovered the face behind the mask.

" _Bucky?"_

" _Who the hell is…bucky!"_

 _He had looked him squarely in the eyes and there was no hint of recognition in them._

 _Just a pair of stone cold eyes, blue like the edge of a dying flame!_

" _You are my mission"_

" _Then finish it."_

" _Cause I am with you till the end of the line pal."_

Steve murmured to the empty room as he slowly drifted to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer : The characters belong to MARVEL COMICS and MCU. I own nothing (except for my Stucky feels)**

Two weeks after his fateful encounter with the winter soldier, Steve was discharged from the hospital.

When Sam dropped him home, Sharon Carter was waiting at his doorsteps with a bunch of rare blue mystique orchid.

After a whirlwind romance that spanned six months, Steve and Sharon Carter tied the knot in a private ceremony hosted on a wedding cruise (one of the nicer ideas from Tony, not exactly novel though) amongst the blessings and cheers from their friends.

For a while, Steve really thought things were going to work out well for them.

"You've got to let it go honey. Whatever it is that keeps you from being _you…_ " Sharon had whispered, her face buried on his chest, after the first time they'd made love.

Steve had nodded and wrapped his arms tightly around her, just drinking in the feeling of being in love and being loved.

But a part of him knew he was lying.

Gradually the lie started stalking him everywhere. Sometimes he screamed himself awake in the night, feeling its cold claws on his chest; trying to tear him apart from inside.

Steve's life was not exactly a bed of roses before he met his destiny on that bridge, but it wasn't unraveling at a breakneck pace like the life after either.

His fall from the helicarrier was just a predestined end to a meaningless journey.

He was tired of scraping the unhinged pieces of his life and giving them the semblance of a shape.

He was tired of doing it _alone_ , without _bucky_ by his side.

 _The nightmares became more frequent._

 _There were days when Steve didn't even feel like getting up from bed. He was afraid to go to sleep though; so he would just stare vacantly at the wall, trying to conjure up the moment on the bridge in his head, trying to make himself believe that his best friend was alive and breathing in the same air as he was._

 _At nights, he would draw feverishly, filling pages after pages of his sketchbook with the same pair of dark rimmed eyes, with a flash of madness glinting through the steely calmness behind it._

 _Steve started back at those dark orbs till it filled him with a sense of hopeless dread. Then he'd let out a muffled cry and tear those sketches apart, crumpling them in his fist and throwing them away._

 _Then he would start drawing the next one._

"Advanced stage PTSD, curable though!" Steve heard Clint whispering to Stark when they thought Steve was not listening.

"Seems more like Steve Rogers' PMSing, if you ask me." Tony obviously thought he was being funny.

 _Steve let himself out of the Stark tower within the next week._

 _Sharon absolutely loathed his decision but chose to stand by him._

 _Steve moved to a tiny apartment in lower Manhattan; another one in a series of impulsive decisions that drove Sharon further away from him._

 _She shifted from one crappy desk job to another till she realized she was too good for them anyway._

 _Steve remembered how happy she looked the day she announced that Tony had offered her a position in the R &D wing of Stark Industries._

 _Unlike Tony, Steve had never known anything other than being a soldier. They were the children of war. Steve and Bucky, born into war, foolish and young, ready to give up their lives for a better world; a world which would eventually forget them and move ahead without a second glance._

 _Only Nat seemed to understand what James Barnes meant to Steve Rogers._

 _Nat and Bruce Banner; who occasionally threw pained glances at Steve, like he could read what was going on in his mind._

 _He never said anything to Steve though._

 _Nat, too, barely spoke about it._

 _Two years back, on Steve's birthday, she framed an old picture of Steve and James in Coney Island and gifted it to him._

 _Steve had no idea how she got her hands on it but he didn't have the voice left to thank her for it._

 _For some reason unknown to everyone, Sharon and Natasha avoided talking to each other in the months that followed._

 _Shortly after, during one of her particularly nasty feats of rage, Sharon hurled a paper-weight at the mirror that eventually ended up hitting the photo frame and breaking it into pieces._

" _Steve, are we ever going to live this down?" She said, bursting into tears "Why don't you just let them go…Aunt Peggy, your pal, the war…just let them be what they were, Steve. I can't live my life competing with shadows._

 _Whatever happened to James, it wasn't your fault._

 _He is not your bucky anymore, Steve._

 _Forget him._

 _Forget everything."_

" _I…can't." Steve muttered in his sleep._

" _till the end of the line, pal."_

" _Don't do anything stupid until I come back."_

" _Come back, buck. Please come back."_

 _The words escaped his lips with a muffled sob and mingled with the soft tunes of 'a river flows in you'._

 _Steve was too sleepy to feel the tears leaking through the corner of his eyes, but he would have been thankful to know nobody noticed it anyway._

 _The moon shone a little dimmer that night, though!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: The characters belong to MARVEL COMICS and MCU. I own nothing.**

 _This place looked familiar._

 _Steve knew he had been here before, but couldn't remember how or when._

 _Before he could think further, the ground beneath him suddenly started to move._

 _That was when he realized he was sitting on a rusty ride of a giant Ferris wheel._

 _Steve realized with a jolt that he was back to Coney Island._

 _But how did he end up here?_

 _He tightly gripped the creaky iron railing of his seat as the ride accelerated upwards._

 _His heart leapt to his throat as he realized how bony and frail his hand looked, pressed against the cold metal._

 _How on earth did they look like they belonged to his smaller self before being injected with the super serum!_

 _It was at this point when he realized it was a dream._

 _He was just dreaming and he needed to come out of this dream immediately, because something unknown scared him._

" _Why?" He whispered to himself._

 _A sound of laughter rang in his ears. It was coming from his left._

 _That sound…Steve would've recognized it even in his afterlife._

" _Bucky!" the trepidation in Steve's heart couldn't stop him from turning painfully slow to his left._

 _HE was there, sitting beside him. A hearty grin lighting up his perfect face._

 _Bucky was wearing the black sweater with red stripes, which Steve's mother gifted him one Christmas. Steve had an identical one with blue stripes. It looked so lovely on Bucky that Steve almost stopped wearing the identical one, knowing that he could never look the same with it on._

 _Steve stared at his clear blue eyes and his own eyes burnt with unshed tears._

" _You are not really here, right. You can't be…this is just a dream."_

" _What are you talking about, punk? Where would I go…remember I am always there?" Bucky face still held that sunshine smile._

 _Steve felt his heart would explode if he couldn't touch his face…at least once._

 _But he knew it was a dream._

 _He needed to come out of it._

 _And he didn't want to._

 _Bucky's smile turned wicked as their ride reached the peak height._

 _From there, it was all downhill._

 _Bucky made a sudden movement, rocking the seat unsteadily by pushing it back and forth._

" _No. Buck, stop." Steve shrieked. His grip on the railing involuntarily tightened._

" _Honestly Bucky, I don't want to fall." He pleaded as Bucky laughed some more._

" _No dummy. I won't let you fall."_

 _Then everything turned blank and the next moment, Steve felt the rush of wind against his skin as he was falling down into nothingness._

 _His mouth opened in a soundless scream, but he never hit the ground._

 _Instead, he was standing at the deck of a gigantic vessel, watching the sky turning blood red as the evening sun drowned at the horizon._

 _Everything was tinted with crimson. It didn't feel right. It wasn't natural and Steve felt the familiar sense of discomfort rising in his chest._

" _This is not real."_

" _Who said it isn't?" this time the voice came from behind._

 _Steve didn't have to look back to know who it was._

 _He felt blood rushing to his face as someone whispered in his ear "Are you ready, Captain?"_

" _Yes" was the word his lips formed, before he could even understand what was going on._

 _He turned round to find himself looking at the same eyes, only this time there was so much darkness swirling in the depths of them._

 _The masked man with long hair was standing behind him._

 _'HE was not Bucky.' Steve told himself._

 _Except he was!_

 _Steve didn't dare move a muscle even when he saw the man leaning towards him._

 _He just waited breathlessly when the man yanked the mask off his face, revealing his hard jawline and unnaturally red, full lips._

 _Steve watched him with a mix of awe and horror as he sensed how fatally attracted he was to this man._

 _But he was not Bucky._

 _He was the winter soldier._

 _Every muscle in Steve's body clenched as he felt his lips brushing against the corner of Steve's mouth._

" _Oh God! Buck, please." Steve pleaded as his eyes fluttered closed._

" _You missed me, Stevie" it was not a question._

" _Like hell, Buck. Without you, I am just a dead man walking." Steve's voice trembled._

" _Don't ever say that, jerk." Bucky's breath was hot against his cheek._

" _Promise me you'll stay. If I see you walk out of my life again, Buck, I swear I won't survive it." Steve let the tears flow freely. He wasn't ashamed of them._

 _He felt Buck's lips softly licking away the salty wetness from his cheek. His heartbeat pulsated in his ears and at that moment he wanted nothing but to melt in his arms._

" _But you have to let me go, baby." It wasn't a question, either. Steve felt those words piercing his heart like a shearing iron spear._

" _I can't." Steve's voice cracked. "Not this time. I just got you back."_

" _You have to." The voice got sterner. It felt like multiple voices were speaking at once._

 _The voices grew louder in his head till Steve couldn't take it anymore._

" _Stop! Stop it please!" he begged "I love him. Do you hear me, Buck? I love you."_

" _Goodbye Steve." The wind whispered in his ears._

" _NO!"_

Steve sat bolt upright in couch, the echo of his own scream ringing in his ears. A dull, numbing sensation had settled on his neck and shoulders.

He rubbed his neck wearily as his eyes fell on the glowing numbers on the digital clock.

It was 1.20 am at night.

He has been asleep for nearly three hours.

He wiped the wetness off his cheeks, feeling utterly exhausted and lightheaded.

A tiny part of his subconscious desperately wanted to go back to sleep and re-live the dream.

" _Just one more time."_ His heart ached.

Steve slowly hoisted himself up and walked towards the kitchen sink, hoping to pour himself some water. The white t-shirt he wore below his sweater was sticking to his back with damp, cold sweat.

Steve stopped mid-way as he saw the screen of his smartphone resting on the table was blinking with message alert.

Steve frowned and picked it up, momentarily forgetting about his physical discomforts.

It could be from _Sharon_ , or one of the Avengers.

'It should better not be from Fury.' He secretly hoped as he tapped his fingers on screen to see the message.

It turned out to be from an unknown number.

It said –

 _Steve,_

 _Fury picked up some shadow activities two blocks away from your building._

 _Don't freak out._

 _Don't do anything stupid._

 _Something tells me this could be HIM._

 _Nat_


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: The characters belong to MARVEL COMICS and MCU. I own nothing.**

 _Steve,_

 _Fury picked up some shadow activities two blocks away from your building._

 _Don't freak out._

 _Don't do anything stupid._

 _Something tells me this could be HIM._

 _Nat_

Heart pounding in his chest, Steve almost pounced on his phone. He pressed the speed dial button with trembling fingers, furiously rubbing the last whiff of sleep off his eyes with the other hand.

Nat picked up exactly on the second ring.

"Steve Rogers, you need to calm the f*ck down first!" the sharp edge in her voice made Steve realize this wasn't another red herring. It made the knot in his chest tighten more viciously.

"Nat, I can't…" Steve's breath was coming in shallow, painful gasps. The way back to his bed felt like treading through water; his leaden legs refusing to carry his weight anymore.

Steve plopped down on his bed, eyes closed, brows furrowed in concentration, trying to focus on Nat's voice at the other end, seeking comfort in the familiarity of it.

"Listen to me, Steve." Nat's voice softened "It's 2 in the night! Tomorrow morning, Fury will have an entire team ready to bring _HIM_ in. You _know_ Nick. You know he won't let matters lie. Just…just not tonight, okay?" she was using her most persuasive and soothing voice but Steve wasn't the one to fall for it.

"Who else knows?" Steve couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice.

 _*Why on earth he is still here talking to Natasha while Buck is wandering around in godforsaken nameless alleys in such a dark, damp night!*_ A helpless, morbid anger surged inside him, till the heat of it crept up his neck and was burning his cheeks.

"Nobody except us…and Nick, of course. He told me not to share this information with anyone, _specially_ you. " Nat sighed "Well, Nick could be an absolute a-hole sometimes, but he did have a point though. Don't know what's got inside me, but, Steve, I felt I had to tell you. It just felt…kinda wrong to **not** tell _you,_ out of all people."

"Well…uh…thanks, Nat, I guess." Steve felt a little bad for being so mad at her moments ago, but he had no time to apologize about his improper behavior. He could always do it later. The list was getting pretty long anyway.

"Steve, I know what Barnes means to you… _No_ , seriously I do. But you need to take it easy. Promise me you are not going to do anything stupid."

Had it been some other time, Steve would've been astounded by how vulnerable Nat sounded. But he couldn't be distracted by her pleading tone at that precise moment.

 _*Sorry, Nat. It's_ _ **Buck**_ _! You know I can't promise anything when it's Buck .*_ His breath fogged the glass screen as he silently prayed for Nat to stop asking for the impossible.

Apparently, Natasha understood his silence perfectly as her next words came laced with bitter frustration bordering on despair "Oh f*ck it, Rogers. Use that big blonde goddamn head of yours and just hold you sh*t together for the night, That's all! Is that too much to ask for?

If you can't do it for me, at least do it for Barnes…and before you go all goo-goo eyed at the mention of his name and decide to throw cautions to the winds, let me remind you the last time you two saw each other, he was busy punching bullet holes through your body. It's not a song and dance routine, Steve. They brainwashed him…real bad. **You are no different to him than the next body he's going to pile up in the bloody trail he is leaving behind everywhere."**

Steve drew a sharp breath to keep his flaring temper in check. With all her sugarcoated sweetness, Nat still knew how to push his hot-button; and she seemed in no mood to stop.

"Strength is in the numbers, Steve. Let him have a better chance. You know what will happen to him if he tries to pull the same stunt around you this time…you may not like to admit it, but you are still _Captain_ f*cking _America_ in peoples' minds and anyone trying to hurt that image would be treated no different than a terrorist.

Sergeant Barnes will become the national villain and worse, he wouldn't even know or remember why it'd become so in the first place."

"Bucky is NOT a terrorist!" Steve spat venomously. "He is not the bad guy everyone is hell bent on making him out to be. Now you listen to me, Natasha… **He may not remember who he is, but** _ **I DO…**_ **and I won't stop until HE remembers it too** …and the whole world will take notice how the victim became the villain in the sick, twisted web of lie woven by HYDRA.

Buck was there for me when I had nothing…and now it's my turn to do the same for him…and I swear to God I won't back down from what it takes to bring him back, because God knows even before I owe anything to the people, the society… **I owe it to Bucky.** He is the reason I am alive today. He pulled me out of that goddamn river…"

"As much as I respect your feelings, Steve… " Nat sounded weary "his actions may not have been dictated by any sense of logic or purpose. We are just perceiving things here. We don't even know for sure he was the one who saved your life. He saw you fall from the Helicarrier. He could've thought his mission was complete and _touchwood,_ you were dead.

By all means, the impact could've killed any normal person, Steve, and you know that!

The waves probably washed you ashore afterwards. End of story.

I hate to say this, but you are in for a big heartbreak if you don't stop seeing Bucky in the Winter Soldier. Let's put your beating heart aside for a second and think logically. We are dealing with a highly trained super soldier assassin-for-hire with a history of violence behind him. Your friend, Bucky Barnes wouldn't have hurt a fly, but the Winter soldier won't even flinch to punish you brutally if you make the mistake of exposing your weak side to him…" Natasha stated matter-of-factly.

"But he didn't…He didn't kill me." It was one of those rare occasions when Steve actually enjoyed being an 'insufferable stubborn ss' (in Nat's words).

"That doesn't mean **he is in love with you** …certainly not **as much as you are with him**." Nat never failed to come back with a tongue-in-cheek reply that could render Steve fumbling for words.

" **Nat, he is my best friend. It's not like…"** Steve protested weakly. His cheeks were coloring with a different sensation now and he silently thanked God that Natasha wasn't there to see it.

"Oh, Steve. You are such a drama queen!" Steve could totally imagine Natasha rolling her eyes, with a hint of a smile quirking her lips at the other end.

"Oh, aren't you the one who said 'touchwood' moments ago?" Steve, too, was smiling a little despite himself.

"You are hopeless. You know that!" Nat sighed dramatically.

"Yet you don't give up on me." Steve teased her, the grin spreading wider on his face.

"Like you won't _EVER_ give up on Barnes! The only difference is…I mean it when I say _you're my friend_ and still manage not to blush like a 100 year old virgin." Natasha sounded pleased with herself, knowing very well that her words might have left Steve flush on the face.

"Nat, I gotta go." Steve's subconscious reminded him he's running out of time and his entire frame stiffened in alert.

"Just…don't get yourself killed, Rogers. I don't want to miss the beach wedding bash of Captain America and Winter Soldier in Miami." Nat quipped.

"Huh…funny how Bucky never fancied exotic beach weddings! He always said Brooklyn was the place…" the words slipped out before Steve could stop himself. He bit his tongue from spilling out more secrets before he embarrassed himself to death.

"Funny how you do yourself, Rogers." Nat broke into an unceremonious cackle that would've amused Steve under different circumstances.

He rubbed his temple and sighed "Thanks for everything, Nat, but you really can't talk me out of it. I have somewhere to be."

Natasha's voice turned somber at the other end "You are not going to stop, are you? Let me at least come with you, Steve. **It doesn't have to be your battle only."**

" **It always was my battle, Nat."** Steve disconnected the call and stared at the screen for a few moments. Then he jumped to his feet, peeling off the white shirt that felt damp and sticky with sweat. He changed into a clean dark blue hoodie, suited for hiding in plain sight.

He decided to keep the fitted pair of denims in which he'd fallen asleep earlier. It was nondescript enough and perfect for keeping him warm in a cold night like this.

He put on his dark rimmed glasses and a pair of black leather boots…and _there! He was ready for this._

Just before he was about to leave his apartment, Steve's eyes fell on the framed picture of _him and bucky in Coney Island_. He replaced the broken glasses with a new frame and decided to keep it near the book shelf, soon after Sharon had left him.

Steve felt an inexplicable draw towards it, as if his legs had grown a mind of their own and decided to carry themselves to it.

 _Tiny Steve in the picture looked blissfully happy with windswept hair and a big grin on his lips as he watched bucky eating a candy on a stick. A few strands of hair brushed against buck's forehead and he looked so young sporting that cheeky smile!_

 _Stupid buck with his stupid sweet tooth and stupid Stevie with his frighteningly stupid…crush!_

Steve picked up the photo-frame and after a brief moment of deliberation, rested his lips against the cool glass.

 _*F*ck it, nobody's home to see him anyway!*_

"You jerk" Steve softly murmured against bucky's face "I am going to bring you home…and the only time I want to see your punk ass out of that door again is to bring us your favourite choco-chip cookies from the corner grocery store" He smiled softly at the thought.

Darkness and bone-chilling cold greeted Steve as he opened the door to the night.

 **NOTE :** Thanks a lot to those who have made it this far.

For Steve, bucky is the destination that brings his restless, haunted soul some peace.

Please stay with Steve till he meets the broken half of his soul in the next chapter. Thanks for blessing these beautifully damaged souls with your precious time, love, likes and follows.

Reviews are heartily welcome, since it helps me to understand whether the story is moving to the right direction!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: The characters belong to MARVEL COMICS and MCU. I own nothing.**

 **This chapter finally spells togetherness for two lonely hearts.**

 **NOTE: Attempted self-harm depicted in this chapter. Please take note if that triggers you in the wrong way.**

 _The lonely wolf. The dying moon._

Steve didn't know why he thought of it. Maybe it's a story he'd heard a long time ago.

 _Some folklore about the wolf longing for the moon, howling each night to get to her, but cursed for eternity not to touch her…_

Steve tried to ignore the rain needling his skin and focus on the memory, but memories betrayed him more often than not now-a-days,

 _I am happy to be the lone wolf, but let Bucky not be the dying moon, please!_ He prayed to particularly no one.

The streets were mostly empty. It was past 2.15 at night and raining.

 _Perfect weather for Valentine's day._ Steve mused.

 _A happy cuddling session on the couch with your partner, watching some fluffy Nicholas Sparks' fairytale on Netflix._ Steve almost smiled. _A few years ago, Sharon and Steve were no different._

Steve would let her sob softly on his shoulder, when soulmates parted on screen, only to be reunited later and living in their forever-happily-after land. Sharon was a total softie in that way, at the same time adamant and possessive about her favourite onscreen pairs getting a happy ending.

If the movie's ending didn't turn out the way she'd imagined, she would be complaining for ages about it.

She hated sad endings.

Maybe that's why Steve never opened up to her about his own story.

Steve walked through a few deserted streets, semi-lit to completely dark, gradually drowning in the dense fog that seemed to rise from the pores of the earth.

Steve felt an eerie chill settling inside his chest. It wasn't anything like the asthma attacks he used to have back in his days as a teenager in Brooklyn. Rather, it was an unnerving, almost fearful sensation.

 _It was like the creatures of the night were out there, watching him intently, with a silent smirk to see him fail at yet another attempt._

 _If only he could see them too!_

* * *

Something moved to his left, making him stop dead on his track.

He spotted a darker silhouette moving inside a lightless alley. He picked up muffled voices echoing softly inside the darkness.

He stood there, motionless, keenly focusing on his serum-enhanced auditory senses and listened to the voices.

" _Oh, Jay, please!" begged one voice breathlessly._

" _Babe, you want me? Just say it!" gasped the other._

" _I want you baby. I want you to…"_ Steve stopped _listening_ as soon as it became clearer what was going on there.

Young lovers at a rainy night!

Not something Steve wanted to witness right now…or ever.

He resumed his aimless roaming through the streets of lower Manhattan.

It turned out the streets were not as deserted as Steve had thought them to be.

"Hey, mister." A pair of girls suddenly appeared, as if conjuring themselves out of the thick mist. "Are you lost? Wanna have some help to beat the sh*tty night?" purred one of them.

Steve didn't have to look at those fishnet stockings to know what they actually meant.

"Sorry, gotta be somewhere." He mumbled and moved forward, feeling faintly guilty for God-knows-what.

"Hey come on! Let's take you home and maybe we can have some coffee." One of them called out "maybe three of us?" she added with a giggle.

" _Dios mio, sexy como follar!"_ exclaimed the other. "Bet his house is broader than his chest!"

Their cackling laughter echoed in his ears long after he had taken another turn that branched to a broader road.

He wondered how long he was going to go without a plan tonight.

 _A man with a plan._ That's what the newspaper called him.

As much as he hated those media-invented monikers, he admittedly felt much more comfortable, much more in-command with a clear strategy. War had taught him to be cautious.

 _So what exactly was he doing out here? Feeding the monstrous hope inside his heart or preparing for another impending heartbreak?_

Seventy years is a lot of time to prepare.

 _Too bad you spent most of it frozen on ice!_ He reminded himself.

He was tangled in an intricate web of thoughts and barely registered the homeless man propped against a wall near a dumpster, accompanied by a quivering, dark-haired puppy.

Exhaustion caught up with him after about another half mile of walk. The fog became increasingly thicker, almost impenetrable till Steve's chest tingled with something akin to claustrophobia. His legs felt heavy and heart, heavier.

" _Please don't do something stupid."_ Nat's words rang hollow in his head.

 _Or was it Nat who said that?_

" _Oh! Memories tire me now."_ He whispered to himself before turning back.

The rain had slowed to an almost imperceptible, soft drizzle now. The street lights glowed dimmer, creating a surreal, dreamy ambience mingled with the mist.

Steve walked with a sloppy stagger, not really minding his steps. His head felt as if it was floating somewhere above his body.

He walked in a trance.

Till something soft caught his leg.

Steve jumped back as his eyes darted to his leg.

The soft thing started making some squeaky noise and Steve realized with a mild jolt that it was the same puppy with the homeless man.

Steve's chest tightened as he lifted the wet, shivering ball of fur in his lap. He tried to hold it close to his chest, hoping to keep him warm; but the puppy squiggled out of his hands and started tugging at his shoelaces.

"Hey, champ, where is your human?" Steve frowned.

He remembered seeing the man barely fifteen minutes ago near the dumpster. He eyed the area minutely but there was no sign of the unfortunate fellow.

The puppy squeaked again, furiously wagging its tiny tail and clutching Steve's leg again.

Steve was no expert in animal behavior but he could swear that the puppy wanted to draw his attention to something.

"Hey." Steve bent down and softly patted its head. "You want to take me somewhere, bud?"

The puppy yelped and ran behind the dumpster. Steve thought he heard a low, gruff voice coming from there before the puppy ran back to him again.

It stared at Steve with beady eyes and wagged his tail miserably. Then it let out another yowl and disappeared behind the giant trash can again.

Steve was thoroughly alarmed now, his dreamlike trance replaced with soldierly alertness. He approached the dumpster cautiously, with a little trepidation creeping up his chest.

Nothing in the world could have prepared him for the scene that was unfolding in-front-of his eyes though!

When his eyes finally fell on it, Steve felt as if the last thread of sanity was about to leave his body.

* * *

"Dot", The man grumbled "хорошо себя вести, глупый ребенок" (behave yourself, foolish kid).

Steve's mind could barely grasp the foreign words coming out of his mouth, and neither did he bother about the meaning of them,

He was struggling to come in terms with the gruesome act taking place in-front-of his eyes.

The man had propped his right hand against a broken metal box (probably scavenged out of the trash) and trying, albeit calmly, to slash it with a knife in his other hand.

Steve noticed, with a sick feeling in his stomach, the dark pool gathering at the man's feet from the open, gushing wound on his arm.

"почти готово" (It's almost over) the man muttered to himself, as if his mind was far removed from his body.

"Плохой нож ... неточности" (Bad knife…malfunctioning) he glared at the weapon and made another hard, sweeping movement.

 _Shit! This guy's gonna kill himself._

 _And HOW!_

Steve took a few hasty steps towards him, secretly hoping to surprise the guy with stealth and made a move to snatch the knife out of his hand; but the guy turned out to be surprisingly fast and sprang to his feet in the blink of an eye.

With his back pressed against the weathered wall, the guy snarled at Steve like a caged lion.

The low, guttural noises coming from the back of his throat were not something Steve would've believed to be human and it sent shivers down his spine.

Long strands of dark hair falling on his forehead hid the man's face from Steve's vision. He was nearly as tall as Steve. A tattered, full-sleeved shirt and worn-out pair of jeans could barely hide the lean, muscular frame ghosting beneath the layers of clothing.

There was something achingly familiar about his posture.

 _About the way he held the knife._

Steve's eyes fell on the glove in his left hand and suddenly, Steve could breathe no more.

"отвали (Back off)" the man shouted in a hoarse voice, brandishing the knife menacingly.

Steve gripped the side of the dumpster to support himself. A wave of dizziness had hit him so strongly, he felt like viewing the world through a purple haze.

His vision swam and a bitter warm liquid rose up his throat. He could barely feel the pain when his knees hit the ground and he puked on the pavement, crouching like the scrawny little teenager back in Brooklyn.

The man paused for a moment, perhaps expecting a different reaction from Steve. When he spoke again, his voice was a little subdued.

"Are you one of them?" His English was thick with foreign accent, but Steve could recognize the voice even in his afterlife!

Steve sat crouched on the ground, utterly defeated, exhilarated and horrified at the same time.

"What's behind the mask? Show me your face." The man ordered.

Steve could see the knife was shaking in his hand. He knew he was pushing him to the edge. He knew how it could end for both of them.

He slowly dragged the hood down from his head. His glasses already lay shattered to the ground, from the impact when he'd dropped to his knees.

From the absolute silence surrounding them, Steve vaguely realized that the rain had stopped.

Fireworks lit up the night sky somewhere far away, in what seemed like a different world. In the exact moment, Steve looked up and stared into a pair of impossibly blue eyes, vivid and striking against the ghostly pallor of his skin, dark and clouded like stormy oceans.

Steve saw the reflection of the red and green sparks flickering on his gaunt face, his lightly-stubbled jaw, sharper than he remembered it.

Steve couldn't take his eyes off him.

Not when he saw the knife falling to the ground with a soft clank from his trembling hands.

Steve started unblinkingly even when his eyes burnt with unshed tears.

Not until he saw Bucky swaying dangerously, with heavy eyelids closing over those sapphire orbs and his body slumping forward like a broken, weightless toy could Steve come out of his trance and leapt to his feet.

Moments later, he was holding Bucky's unconscious frame in his arms.

 _He must have lost too much blood!_

Steve knew he needed to rush for help immediately, but all he could feel was Bucky breathing weakly against his neck, all he could taste the saltiness of tears streaming down his cheeks, and all he could say was 'Buck! Bucky, I got you,pal."; whispering it again and again in his ears, even though he couldn't hear him.

The fireworks lit up the late night sky, sprinkling their stardust on two broken souls, who finally found the way back to each other.

 **NOTE: The journey ahead will not be easy for Steve and Buck; but matters of the heart are always complicated. Stay in touch to know more.**

 **Love**

 **Teddy**


End file.
